


To be a Spartan

by Myriath



Series: Finding Home [2]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Family Relationship - Freeform, Ignoring all DLC and mythical stuff, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, feelings are complicated, lots of feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:41:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26210551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myriath/pseuds/Myriath
Summary: After Alexios and Thaletas broke up in Mykonos, Thaletas returned to Sparta in the hope of getting the mercenary out of his head. But unfortunately, feelings are not always as simple as one would wish.But what kind of feeling is it that is so intense and at the same time hurts so incredibly? And is it really okay for a Spartan general to feel this way?23 Dec: Not forgotten but paused. I promise I will continue one day but at the moment I am not able to deliver the quality it deserves. So I spend time working on the plot.For those who haven't read it yet: I think it 'ends' at a good part to pause. :)
Relationships: Alexios/Thaletas (Assassin's Creed)
Series: Finding Home [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1903528
Comments: 18
Kudos: 32





	1. Family

Thaletas breathed heavily and sweat ran off his face. His opponent was inferior in strength but far superior in agility. He reached out for a deep blow when he suddenly felt his supporting leg being pulled to the side. Quickly he tried to shift his weight, but he was too slow. With a strong push, his opponent knocked him down and threw himself on his chest.  
“Do you give up?” asked the five-year-old in a cheeky voice, clumsily holding his practice sword against Thaletas’ throat.  
It would be easy to push the sword to the side and get the boy in the headlock, Thaletas thought. From the corners of his eyes, he watched the three-year-old pick up the sword he had dropped. When he saw the little one looking around carefully and then grinning broadly as he pressed the sword against him, he could not help but laugh.  
“You have won. I don’t stand a chance against an entire army.” He said and pointed with his head towards the three-year-old.  
The five-year-old followed his gaze and also started to laugh. Then he jumped up and ran to his brother.  
“You are too small for a sword, Priskos!” he lovingly scolded the little one and took the sword from his hand. “You must first grow as tall as me, and then I will teach you how a man fights.”  
Thaletas chuckled and stood up with a swift movement. Still grinning with joy, he knocked the dust off his chiton and walked towards the chicken corral. There sat a man, only a bit older than himself, with the same freckles, but with a beard, who had been watching them the whole time. Thaletas sat down next to him on the fence and immediately got an elbow rammed into his side, which was accompanied by a warm laugh.  
“It’s good to finally see you laughing again, little brother,” said the man and smiled at him lovingly. Then suddenly he turned back to the children. “Vettias, you teach Priskos _not_ how to milk a goat!”  
Immediately the two children stopped with whatever they were doing and put on their most innocent faces before they sneaked broadly grinning away. The sight of them reminded Thaletas of him and his brother when they were children, they always had a lot of shenanigans on their minds and broke their parents’ nerves regularly.  
“When did the two of them actually grow so big, Isandros?” he asked.  
His brother shrugged and put his arm around his shoulders. “When you left for Mykonos, Priskos was not even born. I fear we’re getting old.”  
Thaletas sighed. It had been quite a while since he had last been home. In Mykonos time had gone by so quickly and he had so much to do that he hadn't noticed how much he had missed his family. Especially his brother.  
“Don’t stop smiling, goat boy.” Said Isandros and looked at him sternly. “Ever since you got back, you’ve had that sad look. I don’t like it.”  
Thaletas shook his head and shrugged. Isandros was right, he’d really had that grim look since he got back, although he should be happy. He was in Sparta, with his family. And yet he kept thinking back to Mykonos, to that evening on the beach.  
It hurt to think of Alexios’ desperate face when he broke up with him. Again. His voice haunted him in his dreams. _Here or in Sparta, I want to be yours._ Oh, how much would he have liked to answer that he wanted that too. How much would he have liked to leave everything behind and go with Alexios.  
He thought it would get better in Sparta. He hoped that once he got back, those feelings would finally stop. Once he was in a place where not everything reminded him of that man. But Alexios was everywhere. In every spear, every eagle in the sky. Everything reminded him of him. Even every flower did, and there were many of these in his home.  
“Do you want to tell me about her?” Isandros’ voice broke him from his thoughts.  
Thaletas shook his head. He really wanted to tell his brother everything, every detail, and ask him what was wrong with him. But he couldn’t. He was too afraid to hear the answer.  
“Not yet,” he said, smiling weakly at his brother.

It had been two months since Thaletas had returned to Sparta. Mesoa, to be exact. And it was good to be back. The daily exercises on the training ground, the shared syssitia, he had missed all that. In Mykonos, he had had all that as well, but it was something different than in Sparta. Here he was at home.  
He spent his days according to the strict rules that Sparta imposed on her men, which mostly meant training. And his brother proved to be one of the strictest instructors he ever had.   
Since his return from Arkadia four years ago, Isandros had been waiting for a new assignment, but when none came, he devoted himself entirely to training. He was one of the generals who had won the territory for Sparta, but his unit had been ambushed. It was said that it was his merit that they got out of this situation victoriously with only a few losses and he was celebrated as a hero, but it had cost him a high price. His shield arm had suffered several fractures and he had never fully recovered. Although he was able to lift his shield again and lead it for a short time, the full strength never returned.  
Thaletas admired his brother for how well he handled the situation. For every Spartan, it was the worst fate to be unable to fight in war anymore, but Isandros remained positive. If someone asked Thaletas, he even had the feeling that he seemed happier than before.  
When he didn’t have training or other obligations, Thaletas was with his family, playing with his nieces and nephews, or staying at Kressida’s side. Although she would never admit it, Thaletas knew she was thankful for his support. He never knew how much she actually loved Kittos. To be honest, he always thought their marriage was for practical reasons only, but when he had written to her about her husband’s illness, she immediately came and it had been barely possible to separate her from him. When Kittos finally died, she stopped eating for two entire days and speaking for even a week. And Thaletas was sure she cried at night when nobody could see her.  
Kressida was the oldest of the siblings and always wanted to be the strongest of them. No one had ever seen her weak, not even their mother. No one, except for Thaletas.   
He remembered when he had secretly visited his family in his fourth year in the agoge. He had tried to sneak inside the house through the back door when he thought he had heard a suppressed sobbing. Kressida had been hiding between amphoras and crates and when she noticed Thaletas, she quickly wiped away her tears and faked a smile. He hadn’t said anything, just sat down at her side and took her into his arms until she seemed to feel better. Then he had quietly returned to his group without seeing his parents and other siblings. Since then she always came to him when she needed support and let him take her in his arms.  
The first days after they returned from Mykonos had been the hardest. Kressida had stayed day and night in the women’s sleeping chamber and had only accepted Althea with her, who brought her her youngest son to nurse. After a few days, she had come out several times for some minutes, until she had finally asked Thaletas to take her for a walk. Now she spent most of her time with her children and only reached for Thaletas hand occasionally.  
“What are you thinking about right now?” She asked him when she caught Thaletas hypnotizing his sword instead of sharpening it, as he actually intended to do.  
Thaletas looked up at her and smiled briefly before he turned back to his sword.  
“I thought about how much has changed since Mykonos,” he said. “You seem a little happier these days.”  
“The days are getting brighter again,” she replied and put a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks to you, brother.”  
She turned around and walked towards the entrance of the house. In the doorway, she hesitated a moment before looking over her shoulder and said, “I have invited Althea to dinner. You are spending too little time together lately.”  
When Kressida was out of earshot, Thaletas sighed. It had been almost three weeks since he had last spoken to Althea. They had met in the near forest, where she had wanted to sleep with him. But he had rather harshly rejected her and told her he could not do that anymore. Afterwards, they had fought so badly as they had never done before and until now, none of them had apologized.

Usually, Thaletas fell asleep quickly. He only had to close his eyes and calmness entered his body. But this night was different.  
The dinner went better than expected. Everyone had told stories and laughed and Thaletas has had some good chats with Althea. It was almost like in those days when they both had just been friends. But then Kressida had brought up the subject of marriage again and had pointed out that Gamelion was approaching and that it would be good to get married in that month. Althea, as well as Isandros and his wife, had agreed to it and had talked insistently to Thaletas until he finally said he would consider it.  
It was not as if he was not already thinking about it. They had planned it that way and in consideration of his age, it would be reasonable for him to marry soon. In summer he had been sure about it and had discussed it with Althea. They would marry and she would give him sons and their lives would be exactly as Spartan lives should be. And then Alexios had suddenly appeared.  
Thaletas rolled from one side to the other. Why did the face of this mercenary always have to appear on his mind when it came to marriage? He pressed his hand in front of his eyes and shook his head. That didn’t make sense. It was as if the memory of this man wanted to prevent him from doing the right thing. He rolled himself back again and took a deep breath. He had to sleep.  
An hour later he was still lying awake. Every time he closed his eyes, he was back on Delos, at the ruins, with Alexios. Memories of their conversations came to his mind and it was almost as if he could feel his lips on his skin.  
Finally, he grunted in frustration and stood up. He stepped over his brother, who was snoring next to him, climbed out through the small window, and finally pulled himself up on the roof, from where he could see the Temple of Athena Chalkioikos. Since he was a little boy he had come here when he could not sleep. The lights of the temple had a calming effect. They made him believe that everything would be all right, that the gods had a plan that would one day make sense to him.  
“What is wrong with me, gods?” he asked quietly, wrapping his arms around his knees as he sat down. “It was all supposed to be simple. I will marry Althea, have sons with her and I will learn to love her the way she deserves to be loved. What is wrong with me that I don’t want that? She’s a good woman, a good friend, she deserves to be loved. But every time I close my eyes, I don’t see her. Instead, he is there and my heart beats faster.”  
A tear came down his cheek and he made no effort to wipe it away. Instead, he looked at the stars and smiled hesitantly.  
“My heart belongs to him since the first time I saw him.” He whispered softly. “But why? What kind of feeling is that? I like Althea, I loved Kyra, but with him, I don’t know. It is so different, so intense. It makes me question who I am.”  
A sudden rumbling tore him away from his thoughts, closely followed by a puffing and Isandros’ face looking over the edge of the roof. Thaletas smiled barely visible and shook his head. He had completely forgotten that Isandros knew his hiding place.  
“Can’t sleep?” Isandros asked as he pulled himself onto the roof and finally dropped down next to Thaletas.  
“You found me,” was Thaletas’ only reply and he snuggled up to his brother. He had always done that as a child when he was sure that no one could see them.  
Isandros put his arm around him and pulled him closer. “Of course, little goat boy. I will always find you.”  
Thaletas felt his heartbeat slow down and his thoughts became calmer. Isandros’ firm grip around his shoulders, his steady breathing, all of that had a soothing effect on him.  
“Something’s wrong with me,” Thaletas finally whispered, barely audible.  
Isandros’ grip around his shoulder became tighter, but he didn’t say a word and Thaletas was grateful to him. If he could trust anyone, it was his brother, but how would he feel about him if he told him about Alexios. What he had done, what he felt, should never have happened.  
“Do you still not want to talk about her?” Isandros finally asked. His voice was soft and understanding, without pressure. Thaletas knew he would accept silence.  
Carefully, he released himself from the embrace and wrapped his arms around his knees again. Nervously he played with his fingers before he took a deep breath.  
“I have met someone. In Mykonos.” He finally admitted. “Someone I can’t get out of my head.”  
He felt the blood rush to his face and he looked shyly at Isandros. But his brother had his eyes on the temple and remained silent.  
“I thought the feelings would stop once I got here,” Thaletas said as quietly as he could when he could no longer stand the silence. “But every night I am back on the island and the memories come back. The conversations, the shared laughter, all the little touches. Even the kisses and the sex. But worst of all is this fucking smile that I can’t get out of my head.”  
He clenched his hands into fists until he felt his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands. All his muscles were tense and his breath trembled while he waited for a reaction from his brother.  
For a brief moment, Isandros remained silent, but finally, he turned to Thaletas.  
“You had an actual affair?” he asked with a grin, surprise and disbelief in his voice. “That doesn’t sound like you at all, little brother. Was it not you who lectured me endlessly about loyalty and faithfulness?”  
Thaletas looked at his brother in bewilderment and tried to interpret his brother’s reactions. Finally, he lowered his gaze again.  
“I know it was wrong. But whenever we were together, I couldn’t think clearly.” Frustrated, he grabbed his neck and played with his braid.  
Isandros sighed. “In the past, I might have agreed with you. But since I’m stuck here and don’t get an assignment order anymore, I realized how grateful I am to have Damaris by my side. Niobe was a good wife, don’t get me wrong, but when she died, I felt relieved. A marriage without love may fulfill the duty, but not the heart. Therefore I am happy that you for once followed yours.”  
Thaletas swallowed audibly when Isandros put a hand on his shoulder. What his brother said made sense, but it did not apply to him. What he felt for Alexios was not love. He knew what love felt like, he had felt it with Kyra. Love was warm, pleasant, simple. It didn’t burn you and it didn’t scare or hurt you. It didn’t make you feel as if someone had tied a knot around your heart and would pull it tighter and tighter.  
“Why didn’t you bring her with you to Sparta?” Isandros asked and smiled softly at him. “I’m sure a woman who makes you sigh like that must be very special.”  
Thaletas looked at him startled. He hadn’t noticed that he had sighed.  
“Even if I were in ... you know, it wouldn’t have been a good idea.” He shook his head. “Someone like _her_ is not an option for a Spartan general.”  
Isandros frowned.  
“Why shouldn’t she be– ?” His eyes suddenly widened. “Thaletas, no! Please tell me she’s not Athenian!”  
Thaletas looked at his brother in horror. “Please what? No! Isandros, no, never! It is just … difficult. I wish I could explain.”  
Isandros took a deep breath and squared his shoulders.  
“Even if she was, Thaletas, you’re my brother. You can always trust me. I hope you know that.” Isandros patted him on his shoulder as he got up. “And I hope that one day you will trust me enough to tell me the truth. But until then, I want you to know that I’ll always be there for you.”  
Isandros stretched and yawned before he said good night. He slowly climbed down the roof again and disappeared into the house, leaving Thaletas alone with his thoughts.

About a week later, the peaceful morning hours in Mesoa were disturbed by a bad-tempered visitor. Thaletas was just returning from his morning run when he saw one of Isandros’ friends rushing towards the house and throwing a practice sword at his brother’s feet.  
“Fight me or I’ll kill someone,” the man growled and went straight to attack.  
Isandros skilfully ducked away and picked up the sword. Immediately he was attacked with a few quick blows, which he parried with ease before he went over to counterattack.  
Thaletas just shook his head and approached the spectacle. He didn't know if he had ever seen the guy in a good mood, but today one could think that Ares himself had come by to make trouble.  
“Hey kid, don’t just watch, but take your sword and make yourself useful” shouted the moody general towards Thaletas. “I need a little challenge today. Or did they make you a general just out of pity?”  
Thaletas snorted a laugh and grabbed one of the swords lying on a crate next to the door. With a nod in the direction of his brother, he entered the fight.  
“I’m not a kid, sourpuss.” He laughed and his blows matched those of his brother perfectly. It had been years since the three of them had trained together in the yard. Thaletas almost felt like the young man he was back then.  
“You will always be a kid to me, Thaletas.” Slowly but surely, the brothers pushed the man into a corner. “But at least you finally cut your hair. Good decision.”  
“That is ages ago. You’ve seen me so many times after that.” Thaletas cut him off, and with a powerful blow from below, he carried his sword out of his hand, while Isandros pushed his friend against the wall and held his sword against his throat.  
“Won again,” he said, and with the other hand, he ruffled his friend’s hair, which got acknowledged with a sniff. “So, what’s bugging you this time, Stentor?”  
The general just growled and pushed Isandros aside before he settled down on the step in front of the front door.  
“My worst nightmare has come true. This is what happened.” Stentor spat on the ground.  
“I thought your worst nightmare was a certain woman who lives at your father’s house and regularly defeats you in a fight.” Isandros elbowed Stentor in the side. “What could be worse than that?”  
The general rolled his eyes dramatically and Thaletas had trouble keeping a grin off his face. He could never take this guy seriously, as he always exaggerated. But maybe that was the reason why Stentor was so successful as a general. After all, he always assumed the worst, so he and his men must be prepared for every possible thing that could go wrong.  
“Don’t laugh, kid! Just imagine your worst nightmare had a brother.” Stentor grabbed a handful of stones from the ground and threw them one by one with full force against the wall surrounding the adjacent field. “And now imagine that this brother had suddenly appeared at your home and announced that he, and his annoying eagle, wanted to spend the rest of the winter in Sparta.”


	2. Return to Sparta

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry it took me a while to write this chapter. I hope you like it. :)  
> ____________

Alexios was sitting on the dusty ground of the Athenian graveyard and stared at the plain marble in front of him. He had left most of his armor at his friend’s house and was only wearing a dark chiton with a simple belt and his bracers and felt a bit naked because of it.  
“You would laugh at me and tell me I look great, right?” he said to the stone.  
He felt silent again as if he waited for an answer that would never come. Years had passed since Phoibe’s death, but the feeling of guilt still remained. Hadn’t he had been too late, she would be still alive today. She would be sitting right beside him, not a girl anymore, but not a woman either, and she would scold him for treating her like fragile Athenian pottery.  
“I need your advice,” he sighed and wrapped his arms around his legs. “There is this friend I have. He is impulsive and stubborn, he puts his honor first and is a Spartan through and through, but beneath his pride hides a kind man with a soft heart. I have promised him I would go to Sparta once I have destroyed the Cult. I have promised him to stay there for the rest of the winter. But now, I’m not sure if that would be a good idea.”  
He stared at the stone but it remained silent. What would he give to hear Phoibe’s voice one last time? But all he could hear was the sound of the birds that began falling silent as the sun disappeared on the horizon and the steps of the people visiting the graveyard.  
“You would have liked him. Remember, when you wanted me to settle down and live an easy life and I told you that I’m not made for that? Well, he made me think about it. For the first time in my life, I thought it would be nice to live somewhere quiet, maybe having my own house with chicken and goats. I thought it would be nice to wake up next to the same person every morning.” He sighed again and his grip got tighter. “I fear that dream will never come true.”  
“What happened to that dream?” asked a voice behind him and Alexios cringed.  
“Don’t sneak up on me. I might kill you accidentally,” Alexios said. He leaned back and supported himself on his hands. “What are you doing here, Allie?”  
Alkibiades sat down next to him and took two skins from a bag he brought with him.  
“I found some of your armor at my house or at least I guessed it was yours. And this is the only place I can imagine you going without it. Except for my bed, of course.” He winked at Alexios and poured some wine into a cup. “I thought you might need this.”  
Alexios accepted the cup that was handed to him and took a sip.  
“Hard to believe that it is already seven years ago.” He nodded towards the headstone.  
Alkibiades poured another cup for himself and raised it.  
“To the never forgotten,” he said.  
Alexios nodded and also raised his cup. They both took a sip before they shared a moment of silence.  
“You didn’t answer my question, Lexie,” Alkibiades asked after they finished their cups.  
Alexios just looked at Alkibiades and raised an eyebrow.  
The Athenian chuckled and poured another wine for both. “What happened to your dream of quitting with danger and becoming a boring farmer?”  
Alexios groaned.  
“I never said I want to become a farmer, I just … never mind.” He said and took a sip of his second cup.  
Alkibiades didn’t say anything in response but looked at Alexios with raised brows. Alexios knew he would never force him to say anything, he was a good friend, and maybe the person he could trust the most. Unless he lied to him again. But Alkibiades had become like an open book for him, he recognized every lie even before it was spoken. And in the last few years, the lies had become less.  
“He dumped me again”, Alexios finally admitted. “At the same fucking beach. He told me sweet words about how I changed his life and dumped me at the same time, that maláka.”  
“Ouch,” Alkibiades pulled a face. He put a hand on Alexios’ knee and began to caress it gently.   
Alexios sighed. “I know. But something was different this time.” He looked his friend into the eyes and allowed himself to show how hurt he felt. “This time I think I understood why he did what he did. Well, part of it. He is still a little confusing.”  
“You love him dearly, don’t you?” Alkibiades’ voice was calm and Alexios knew he didn’t have to answer. His friend already knew the truth.  
“Unfortunately, you are right,” Alexios said and took another sip of wine. “I don’t learn from the mistakes of the past.”  
Alkibiades shifted until he sat right behind Alexios with his legs around him. Carefully he untied his bun and let his fingers run through his hair. Alexios raised a brow but let his friend do as he pleased. The touch had something soothing about it.  
“Does he love you?” Alkibiades separated a strand of Alexios’ top hair and began braiding it with deft fingers.  
Alexios felt himself blushing slightly. “I think he does.”  
“So why don’t you just sail straight to Sparta, pull that idiot into your gorgeous strong arms, and make love to him every day and night?” Alkibiades stopped braiding and rummaged in his bag until he found what he was looking for. Then he continued. “I don’t understand why you are hesitating.”  
Alexios laughed as he imagined how Thaletas would react if he did exactly as suggested.  
“I don’t think it is that easy with him,” he said. “He is not you.”  
“Thank the gods!” Alkibiades exclaimed and laughed. “Two of me would be too much for this world to bear. And for your poor body.”  
He wrapped his arms around Alexios’ upper body and placed a series of teasing kisses on his neck until he elicited a soft moan from him. Then he concentrated on Alexios’ hair again.  
“What are you doing there, Allie?” Alexios asked and tried to move his hand to his hair but it got immediately slapped away.  
“Patient, love.” Alkibiades took the upper hair and tied it back into a bun. “You know, there is one thing in life that I truly believe in.”  
“Fun?” Alexios raised an eyebrow and Alkibiades began to laugh.  
“Guess you know me better than I know myself,” Alkibiades said and wrapped his arms around Alexios again. “So there are two things I truly believe in. One is fun, obviously.” He breathed on his friend’s neck.  
Alexios chuckled and shook his head. “And the other? Seducing mercenaries on graveyards?”  
Alkibiades groaned exaggerated and released Alexios immediately from his embrace. He pushed Alexios aside a bit and settled down next to him again.  
“You do me wrong. Though I think we should pick up on that seduction thing later.” He pushed out his lower lip and looked at Alexios with feigned disappointment. “The other thing is true love.”  
Alexios raised his brows and blinked in surprise.  
“You? True love?” he asked.  
Alkibiades tilted his head and looked at Alexios with a serious expression.  
“Sure I do,” he said and caressed Alexios cheek. “And from the way you talk about your beloved general, I would say it is true love what you both share. I’m a bit jealous, Lexie.”  
Alexios just shook his head and smiled uncomprehendingly. Why did he talk with Alkibiades about love? This man was the last person in the whole world he would expect to know the difference between love and lust. But at the same time, he wanted to believe that his words were true. What he felt for Thaletas was something he had never felt in his life before and even if he hurt him way more than he did him good, he wanted to be with this man. Now and forever.  
“Can I touch?” he asked and raised his hand to his hair.  
Alkibiades smiled at him and nodded slowly. “You can.”  
Alexios carefully felt for the spot where Alkibiades had braided his hair and followed the pattern gently with his fingers. He stopped when he suddenly felt something cold and hard, a piece of metal with a light engraving if he guessed correctly.  
“A bead?” he asked and looked at Alkibiades questioningly.  
“It is a gift,” Alkibiades said.  
Alexios frowned. “But I already have your bracers.”  
Alkibiades sighed and took one of Alexios’ hands into his and ran his other over the bracer.  
“I don’t think it would be wise to wear them in Sparta. Although I think you already did.” He said and laughed.  
Alexios joined in the laughter. His friend was right on both counts.  
“You know I love you as my best and closest friend. You are the longest relationship I ever had in my entire life.” Alkibiades looked Alexios into the eyes. “This bead shall remind you of me. It shall remind you that I want you to be happy, no matter what decision you have to make to achieve this. And it is also a warning for your sweetheart. If he ever dares to hurt you again, I will find him and kill him and take you back to Athens where we will visit the best symposia every night.”  
Alkibiades laughed and stood up. He stretched out his hand to Alexios.  
“Come now, Lexie. While you were away, I have learned a thing or two I want to show you. Your Spartan general will appreciate it, I’m sure.”  
He winked at the mercenary who took his hand and followed him back to his home.

Myrinne slapped her hands to her mouth when she saw the figure that appeared in front of her house in the morning. It reminded her distantly of her son, whom she had thought dead for years and who had left the family in a hurry when they were finally all together again. And yet this figure seemed strange to her.  
“Mater?” Alexios asked carefully when his mother didn’t move a bit and simply stared at him.  
Myrinne blinked several times and watched as the figure came closer to her.  
“Alexios?” she asked and examined him from top to bottom. Then she put her hands in his hair and pulled her son closer until their foreheads touched. “You are back, lamb. You have returned home.”  
Alexios put his hands gently over hers.  
“I am … home, mater. And I will stay for a while this time,” he said and smiled. “If you still want that.”  
Myrinne cupped his face and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. “Of course, lamb. You can stay forever if you want, but I’m afraid that is too much to ask of you.”  
Alexios shrugged and took a step back.  
“I don’t know yet, mater.” He put one hand in his neck and scratched it nervously. “I came back to give _Sparta_ another chance. It depends on her. If she wants me here I might stay.”  
Myrinne raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Instead, she examined Alexios’ appearance again and her expression changed from questioning to confused.  
“I guess there is some kind of explanation to this.” She gestured with her hands up and down while pointing at Alexios.  
Before he even had the chance to give an answer the door opened again and Nikolaos left the house, accompanied by Stentor and Dei– _Kassandra_.  
“What in Hades name–?” Stentor stopped on the doorstep, eyes and mouth wide open, and stared at Alexios. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”  
Alexios raised his hand to wave at him and grinned innocently.  
“I’m happy to see you, too, brother,” he said.  
Stentor came closer to Alexios and circled him like Ikaros did with his prey.  
“Are you even human?” Stentor asked and leaned closer to sniff at Alexios. “No, definitely not. Go wash. You are a disgrace to this family.”  
“Stentor!” Nikolaos hissed and his adoptive son turned in his direction. “Give Alexios a chance to explain his appearance.”  
Alexios cleared his throat. He now wished he hadn’t left the Adrestia immediately but had listened to Barnabas and Odessa and changed his clothes. His upper body was naked and painted with red lines, which were also found on his arms, legs and face. He did not know whether everything was really color or whether there was still blood on him. It was quite possible that there was, even very likely.  
“I came directly from the Arena in Pephka,” Alexios said and glanced from his mother to his father and back again. “Maybe I should have taken some time to change?”   
Nikolaos made a few steps towards his son and took him in his arms to greet him. Then he took a step back again.  
“Stentor was right. A bath wouldn’t have been too bad,” Nikolaos said. He turned to Myrinne and put a hand on Alexios’ shoulder. “I will take him to the river and borrow him some clothes from Stentor. We will be back for breakfast in an hour.”  
Myrinne nodded in approval and guided Kassandra, who hadn’t spoken a word yet, back into the house. She looked strange in her plain Spartan peplos, nothing like the monster Alexios remembered her to be but like a woman. Stentor cursed and tried to dissuade Nikolaos from giving his belongings to Alexios, but Kassandra quickly returned and silently pressed them into Alexios’ arms before disappearing again.

Life in Sparta was much more boring than Alexios had imagined. Every day followed the same routine, which basically consisted only of training and syssitia, although he wasn’t allowed to participate in the latter because he hadn’t completed the agoge. But he could not imagine that it could somehow make the day more exciting.  
Would he also have become such an obstinate bore like his brother if his childhood had been different? Maybe he should be grateful to his father for throwing him off the mountain and giving him his freedom.  
When he wasn’t distracted from his boredom by training, his mother used to keep him busy with innumerable household chores, which were usually done by helots. She didn’t think much of letting others do the work when you could do it just as quickly yourself. Perhaps her time outside of Sparta had also contributed to this way of thinking.  
Alexios sighed as he stowed the breakfast stuff in the kitchen. He had already been in Sparta for eight days. Eight days full of routine, but without a moment of rest. He actually had planned to visit Thaletas on the first day and tell him that he had found the courage to return here. Finally, after two weeks in Pephka where he had been killing time and men because he was a coward. But his family didn’t give him time, as if they were afraid that he would disappear again as soon as he was let out of their sight for a moment.  
“It gets better”, said a female voice next to him.  
Alexios didn’t recognize it at first. It was the first time Kassandra had spoken to him since he had come back. Usually, she would avoid him and treat him like air. Who could blame her for that? When they last met Alexios had stated that he still thought killing her would have been the better choice. Perhaps she still resented him for this.  
He looked at her questioningly.  
“The chores, the family, everything,” she said as she sensed his confusion. Her voice was cautious as if she expected an attack at any time. “You will get used to it. I did.”  
Alexios tried to smile at her. It still felt strange.  
Suddenly a loud howling sounded from outside. It reminded Alexios of a wolf, but it was clearly coming from a human. He grinned. How many years had it been since he had last heard the sound? He put the bowls down and ran outside while he drew his spear.  
He was immediately attacked by Nikolaos, which he countered effortlessly. In the past, his father had always defeated him with ease but Alexios was no longer a child. This time he had the upper hand and it did not take long until the Wolf of Sparta lay on the ground, the Spear of Leonidas pressed against his throat.  
“You remembered our signal,” said the Wolf as Alexios helped him back on his feet.  
Alexios laughed. "How could I ever forget it?"  
He looked to the house where Stentor stood, his arms crossed, and he grinned at him. His new brother just shook his head and grimaced in a way that Alexios generously interpreted as a smile. In a strange way, he really liked this guy. He was stubborn and always grouchy, but also honest and showed his feelings which Alexios appreciated.  
“When you have finished fooling around, we might go to the training ground,” Stentor said and shouldered his shield.   
Nikolaos laughed but followed his example and soon the three men made their way down the stairs where they were already awaited.   
Alexios was immediately greeted by a Spartiate called Menekrates whom he should remember from his time in the agoge as they had been in the same agélai, as Nikolaos said, but he didn’t. Since Alexios had returned to Sparta, the two men had trained together every day and Menekrates had tried to teach him how to use a shield which would never become one of Alexios’ talents. He always forgot to use his sword or tried to use the shield like he would his spear.  
Menekrates was the same age as Alexios and shared his long hair and his sense for inappropriate jokes. But the best thing about him was his patience. He never got mad with Alexios when he messed up with the shield once again and always corrected his stance, unlike Stentor who always just scolded him for the slightest mistake.  
“Wolf cub, raise your shield. Or do you want to protect your knees?” Menekrates shouted and grabbed Alexios left arm to position it higher.   
The nickname had been used by everyone in his agélai to address the son of the Wolf, Menekrates had explained to him on his first day of training. Alexios wished he could remember but the memories were dull as if they were wrapped in fur.  
“Those things are impractical,” complained Alexios but grinned.  
Menekrates ruffled his hair. “Fight once in the phalanx in war and you will appreciate the value of them for the rest of your life.”  
He mirrored Alexios’ grin and the two men continued their sparring. It didn’t last long until Alexios finally threw his shield away and fought single-handed but much better than before.  
Their training lasted until the sun reached its highest position when Stentor picked up the mercenary for dinner.  
The two brothers walked in silence, still a bit uncomfortable in each other’s company, when Alexios suddenly cringed. It was as if he had heard a familiar laugh. He felt his pulse quicken and he looked around for the source of the noise.  
It wasn’t long before Alexios finally found what he was looking for. Not far from him, he could see Thaletas’ freckled face, he was laughing and warmly saying goodbye to other Spartans. He looked happy. Much happier than Alexios had ever seen him in Mykonos. And that gave his heart a sharp sting.  
Had it been right for him to return to Sparta? Wouldn't it have been better if he had stayed away a little longer until Thaletas have had the chance to build the life he had always wanted?  
Alexios didn’t even notice that he stared at Thaletas until the man suddenly turned his eyes away from his comrades and looked around for something. It wasn’t long before he spotted the mercenary and the laughter disappeared from his face. The expression that followed was hard for Alexios to interpret. Fear, shock, anger, horror, it could be anything.  
For a moment, which felt like an eternity for Alexios, Thaletas looked at him like this, but then his expression changed again and a faint smile appeared on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gamelion was the month of frequent marriages in ancient Greece. It corresponded approximately to January and was chosen to honor Hera. Whether this month was as important for the Spartans as it was for the Athenians, I couldn't find out for sure, so I took the liberty and simply decided that it was.
> 
> \-----
> 
> This is the beginning of a new series. As it looks like I couldn’t leave Alexios and Thaletas alone, especially not after the ending that I wrote. Hopefully, Thaletas doesn’t look like an asshole now ;) After all, we all love him and know that he’s actually a really nice guy. 
> 
> Have fun reading.  
> Myriath


	3. Nice to meet you

Alexios was in Sparta.  
There could be no doubt about that. There was no one else who would fit Stentor’s description, especially no one who was also the son of the Wolf.  
Slowly, Thaletas put the swords aside, muscles tensed. He felt his pulse quicken and his hands began to tremble. Why was he suddenly so nervous? Slowly he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Hopefully, his brother would not notice. He did not feel like answering questions.  
After a few breaths he felt control of his body return, but the world around him seemed dull as if everything around him was far away. He noticed that Stentor was still ranting, but he didn’t understand the exact words. With all his strength he turned towards his brother and Stentor and muttered an excuse that he wanted to wash himself. Then he squeezed past them into the house.  
As the door closed behind him and blocked out the daylight, a part of Thaletas senses came back. He felt protected by the massive walls, where he was sure that the past would not cross his path uninvited. He looked for a cloth and a bowl, that he filled with water, and he carefully began to wash his body. He forced his thoughts to focus on the here and now, on the wet rag that removed the sweat and dust from his arms. The cool water did him good and helped him to keep his thoughts under control.  
What was wrong with him? He was a Spartan general, he commanded men, made difficult decisions and had faced death so many times. Why did he react in such a way to the news that a friend of his was in Sparta? A friend whom he himself had asked to come and whose arrival he had been hoping for to hear about for weeks.  
He sighed. Why did Alexios have to make his life so complicated?  
It was all so simple and clear before he entered it, Thaletas thought. Like how life was supposed to be.  
He put the bowl and the cloth aside and went into the sleeping chamber where he took off his chiton. Carelessly, he threw the garment into a corner and searched for a clean one in his trunk. If he should run into Alexios, he wanted to at least look good.  
He hesitated and looked at the piece of fabric in his hands. Was that what he wanted? Did he want to look good for Alexios?  
“Shit!” he cursed and sank to his knees.  
With trembling hands, he pressed the chiton to his chest and tried to calm his breath.  
“Shit, maláka!” he cursed again. “What are you doing to me?”  
He closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. In and out. In and out. It helped and after a few breaths he felt his muscles relax again and he dropped the garment on the floor. His gaze followed the fabric, but then something else caught his attention. Something that would forever remind him of Alexios. Carefully, he touched the small scar on his loin, which just refused to fade away.  
He smiled unwittingly. It was a bittersweet reminder of a wound Alexios had added to him on her first evening on Delos. Not in their fight. But afterwards, when Alexios had cut Thaletas’ perizoma with his spear. Neither of them had been able to call patience their strength that evening.  
Thaletas giggled. Then he finally swallowed the lump in his throat, grabbed the chiton and stood up. Carefully he put on the garment and took another deep breath. It was time to face the inevitable. He could try to avoid Alexios. But for how long? A couple of hours? Maybe some days or a few weeks. But eventually, he would run into him. So he’d better get it over with now when he was mentally prepared.  
Slowly he turned to the door and was about to open it when he heard noises from the main room and changed his mind. He didn’t want to run into his brother or Stentor and risk changing his plan. Instead, he climbed out the window and onto the small field next to the house.  
Outside he hesitated. Was that really a good idea?  
“Pull yourself together. You’re a general, not a little girl,” he scolded himself quietly, and climbed the rocks that led to the foothills of the mountains behind the house.  
The way into the city of Sparta was not far and after a few minutes, he reached the agora from where he could see the two columns that stood not far from the house of Alexios’ family. On the right column, an eagle had settled down and was cleaning its feathers. Thaletas smiled and his pulse accelerated. There were many eagles in Lakonia, but he would always recognize Ikaros. And where Ikaros was, Alexios could not be far away.  
Still smiling broadly, he took a deep breath and ran up the stairs that led to the upper part of the city. Taking two steps at once. He was confident he would face Alexios and welcome him in Sparta. They were friends, right? And friends would welcome each other when the other returned.  
At the top of the stairs, he turned onto the path that led to the house and suddenly stopped. There he was. At the door of his parents’ house, at his father’s side, laughing. Thaletas could swear that his heart skipped a beat. He didn’t know what he had expected, but he certainly hadn’t expected to see Alexios in nothing but a clean, red chiton. Without thrown together armor that he had gathered on his journey. He would even have expected him to wear an Athenian breastplate. But Alexios looked as if he had always lived in Sparta, as if he belonged here.  
And he looked so happy.  
Thaletas suddenly swallowed and turned pale. What if Alexios did not want to see him at all? Were they really friends? They had separated on good terms. Hadn't they? They had said that they wanted to see each other again as soon as Alexios was in Sparta.  
Thaletas bit his lip and remembered the conversation on the beach.  
He had broken Alexios’ heart. Again. He thought about his trembling voice and how hurt he had looked. What if he hadn’t meant it seriously, that he wanted to see him again? What if he hated him? He couldn’t blame him if he did. What he had done to him on the beach had not been right. What he had done before, even less.  
Thaletas took one last look at him. At his stupidly smiling face, his strong, scarred upper arms, his tempting thighs. He shook his head. This was not the right moment for such thoughts.  
After taking a deep breath, he turned around and went to the temple.

“Good training, General!” Duris slapped a hand on Thaletas’ shoulder and pulled him closer for a split second.  
Thaletas snorted a laugh.  
“You call that good training? In a war, we would both be dead now.” He tried to look sternly, but he couldn’t wipe off a grin.  
The training had indeed been good, but they would be dead too. Isandros had put them in a hopeless situation. Two men, without shields and without weapons against twenty armed men. Thaletas was not quite sure what the goal of this new exercise was. Should they really learn to survive longer in such situations or did his brother just want to show them how bad it felt to fail? Maybe both.  
“You were impressive, Thaletas!” Melanippos stepped up to him and they clasped their hands. “I’ll probably get in real trouble for you knocking my shield away.”  
Thaletas grinned at his childhood friend and shook his head.  
“I hope so,” he said. “A Spartan must never lose the shield.”  
Melanippos made a face and then laughed again. He had not had a chance to keep his shield if he hadn’t wanted to risk a broken arm, and although Sparta demanded a lot from her men, such an injury would have been unnecessary in training.  
An arm wrapped around Thaletas’ shoulders from behind and he suddenly had the weight of a man on him.  
“Melanippos, you are excluded from the syssitia for today. Never lose your shield, not even in training,” Isandros admonished the younger man. “And you, little brother, will show me later how you did that. They don’t teach that in Sparta.”  
Thaletas blushed. He had really not learned that in Sparta, but in Mykonos when a mercenary came to his aid. It was the first thing he had ever seen of Alexios and he still remembered how much it had impressed him. That untamed power with which he took cover from the Athenians and turned a hopeless situation into a victory. He did not like to admit it, but probably Alexios had saved his life that day.  
“Are you okay, brother?” Isandros asked and looked at Thaletas questioningly.  
“Sure,” he replied. “Just a little exhausted from training. You’re pushing us a lot.”  
Isandros laughed and slapped his upper arm, his own arm still around Thaletas’ shoulders.  
As time passed, the other men from his training session came to say goodbye to them for dinner. Hands were clasped, short and rough hugs were exchanged and suggestive jokes were made.  
Suddenly, a feeling came over Thaletas that he had not expected in the city and that made him forget the surroundings around him. It was as if he was in the woods and a predator had set its eyes on him. Unobtrusively, he looked around in search of the cause of the feeling.  
It did not take long until he had spotted what he was looking for. The man he had managed to avoid the last few days, stared at him with an intense gaze that he could not read. Was he angry with him? Was it hate in his gaze or shock of seeing him? Or was it perhaps something entirely different?  
Carefully he smiled in his direction, never letting him out of his sight. And for an agonizingly long second, he feared the worst.   
But then Alexios smiled back at him.

Thaletas tried to concentrate on his breathing and to keep his eyes on the path in front of him, but his thoughts kept straying. Alexios had smiled at him. Not with a politely distanced smile, which was given to old acquaintances whom one actually never wanted to see again. But with a real smile, as if he was happy to see him.  
“Focus,” he scolded himself and tried to shake off the grin that had spread across his face against his will.  
He gritted his teeth and increased the pace. He would have had preferred to go straight to him, but his brother and Melanippos had urged Thaletas to come with them. And knowing them as he did, a refusal would have led to questions he didn’t want to answer.  
A sudden loud cry of an eagle tore Thaletas away from his thoughts, and he did not need to look at the sky to recognize that it was Ikaros. It was not an ordinary cry, but a signal he gave to his partner when he had spotted a target. Thaletas slowed his steps and came to a stop. Nervously, he looked around, hoping to see Alexios first.  
“Are you looking for someone in particular?” asked a rough voice behind him and Thaletas turned around jerkily.  
He felt a lump forming in his throat and tried to swallow it straight down. Knowing that Alexios was in Sparta was one thing, seeing him at the training ground was another. But standing right in front of him, talking to him, suddenly felt like a task meant for Herakles.  
“You are here,” was all he could bring out. “In Sparta.”  
Alexios tilted his head and grinned.  
“I promised you I would come, didn’t I?” he said. “A misthios keeps his promises, anything else would be bad for business.”  
Thaletas blinked, then he chuckled. He had thought up many variations on what their first conversation in Sparta might look like, but he had clearly forgotten to consider Alexios’ interesting sense of humor. The grin he had been wearing on his face all morning spread again as he looked at his counterpart. How much had he missed this face, those warm brown eyes that were so gentle and deadly observant at the same time? And these lips, perfectly made for being kissed.  
For a moment, his eyes lingered on them, then he realized that he was being watched and the redness shot up his face. Quickly he turned around again and looked in the direction of Mesoa.  
He cleared his throat.  
“How did you know where exactly you would find me?” he asked. “Did you let poor Ikaros search all of Lakonia for me?”  
Behind him, Alexios began to laugh. Loud and hearty, as if everything was fine between them. And suddenly, a warm feeling spread in Thaletas chest. Hope? But for what?  
“I would have,” he said, still laughing. “But luckily I have a brother who gets very talkative if you annoy him long enough. Which, by the way, just means I need to be around him.”  
Thaletas snorted and shook his head, still grinning. He could very well imagine how the conversation between them must have gone. Stentor was annoyed by everything that was breathing or that could get in his way or that even existed. Alexios at his side, with his charmingly obtrusive grin on his face, must have been a sight that entertained the gods.  
Suddenly, he felt a hand grasp his wrist.  
“Thaletas, look at me.” Alexios had stepped close to him, so close that he could feel the heat radiating from his body. And every syllable was accompanied by a breath that hit his neck and sent a shiver down his spine.  
The intensity with which his heart was pounding in his chest was almost too much to bear and Thaletas knew that if he turned around now, his instincts would triumph over his mind. Everything in him seemed to want to kiss the mercenary, but it made no sense. Why could a single man have such an effect on him?  
“Not here, not now,” he said, trying to make his voice sound as confident as possible. “Follow me, Eagle Bearer. I know a place where we can talk.”  
He left the road and walked uphill through the trees. Alexios followed him, his wrist firmly in his grip as if he feared that Thaletas would run away as soon as he let go of him. Granted, he found the thought of running away tempting. How easy would it be to run away and leave everything behind? To settle down somewhere where nobody knew him and nobody would ever find him. Easier than facing the feelings that were lurking inside him.  
The minutes passed and Thaletas led them further and further up the mountain, always trying to stay as far away from the paths as possible. He knew this area well, he had spent much of his childhood here and as a young man, he had gone to these woods when he wanted to be alone.  
“If I had known that we were going to walk to Athens, I would have brought Phobos with me,” joked Alexios, and Thaletas tried to hide his grin.  
“Patience is a Spartan’s strength,” Thaletas replied. “He does not whine, but silently endures the orders of his general.”  
He pushed a few branches out of the way and led them onto a hidden path. To their sides, the rocks rose waist-high, not high enough for a ravine, but high enough that the bushes growing on them shielded them from the rest of the world. An old stream that rarely carried water.  
“Does that mean you are _my_ general?” Alexios asked teasingly.  
Thaletas could not help but laugh. He stopped and glanced over his shoulder at Alexios.  
“Would you _like_ to take orders from me?” he asked with a husky voice, surprised by his own words.  
“So far, I have always greatly enjoyed your orders,” Alexios replied and ran his tongue over his lips. “I am curious about which one you would give me this time.”  
Alexios loosened the grip around Thaletas wrist and stepped closer to him, taking the general’s hand in his. Thaletas felt his breath on his face, his lips so close that they almost touched and for a brief moment he was tempted to close the gap between them. But with great effort, he managed to restrain himself and instead looked at their fingers that had interlocked.  
“We are almost there,” he said and swallowed audibly. “Then we can talk.”  
Without letting go of Alexios' hand, he led him along the path until they came to a ledge that formed a natural roof. The sides were shielded from the outside world by rocks and bushes and even the sounds of the animals seemed to be muted here. Thaletas had discovered this place as a child when he was playing in the forest and got caught in a storm. In search of shelter, he had fallen off the rocks and landed here.  
“I come here when I need to think,” he said.  
Reluctantly, he let go of Alexios’ hand and settled on the ground. He leaned his head against the stone, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Next to him, he felt Alexios following his example. Their arms and legs touched and wherever skin met skin, Thaletas felt the familiar tingling that Alexios’ touch caused in him.  
Alexios sighed loudly and Thaletas felt the mercenary’s arms tensing.  
“I don’t like it when you think,” he said barely audibly. “It always means that I will get hurt.”  
Thaletas bit his lower lip and slowly opened his eyes. Cautiously, he looked at the man next to him. Alexios had his gaze focused on his hands and his fingers nervously nibbled the skin on his nails.  
“I didn’t …” Thaletas stopped. He felt the taste of his own blood on his tongue and the fresh wound on his lip burned slightly. With a trembling voice and a heartbeat that he could feel in his throat, he continued. “I wish I could promise you that I will never hurt you again. But I can’t. All I can promise is that I’ll try. I don’t know if that’s enough for you.”  
Alexios raised his head and turned it in his direction, but Thaletas looked away quickly. Too great was the fear of what he would see in his eyes. But suddenly, he felt a hand tenderly cup his jaw and turn his head back with gentle pressure. Thaletas gathered all his courage and looked directly into the deep brown eyes in which he would drown one day.  
He noticed just in time how the mercenary’s face slowly came closer.  
“Alexios, I can’t,” he said.  
“Why?” Alexios asked and pulled his hand back. Again he looked down to his lap where his hands moved nervously. “Thaletas, how do you feel about me?”  
Thaletas pulled his legs to his upper body and wrapped his arms around his knees. His heart was beating fast in his chest. How did he feel about Alexios? Friendship? Yes and no. Alexios was a friend, but his feelings towards him were clearly different from the feelings he felt towards his other friends. Stronger, more intense. Love? No, he had already ruled that out. He had loved Kyra and that feeling had been different. Besides, Alexios was a man. A Spartan general could not be in love with a man. Could he?  
“I don’t know,” he finally said and got an instant reply.  
“I understand.” Alexios’ voice was cold, almost dismissive. Pain and hurt resonated in it.  
Thaletas forced himself to look at Alexios and immediately he felt his own heart break. The sight was almost worse than the one on Mykonos.  
“I don’t think you understand,” he said and did not take his eyes off Alexios’ face. If he did not want to lose him for good, he knew he had to be honest. He swallowed. “I … I don’t understand my own feelings. But I would be very happy if you would help me to find out what they are.”  
He held his breath and the silence between them became almost unbearable. Had he now lost him forever? Seconds passed that felt like hours. But finally, Alexios smiled weakly.  
“I would be happy to help you,” he said. And in his voice, something else resonated. Hope?  
Thaletas thought his heart would jump out of his chest at any moment, so relieved he felt. Whatever it was between them, he was looking forward to finding out.  
Slowly, he released one hand from his legs and let it move cautiously onto Alexios’ thigh.  
“May I hold your hand again?” he asked.


End file.
